


What My Heart Desires

by Hopesjourney



Category: Original Story
Genre: F/M, Romance/Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-19 21:36:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2403743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopesjourney/pseuds/Hopesjourney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah was a woman who thought she had her life all figured out until she journeyed back to Italy and discovered she didn't have anything figured out.  If she can just trust Adam, she discovers she might just find her heart. This story is a non-traditional romance with a mystery thrown in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ciao Bello!

I saw him for the first time standing at the overlook on top of Monte Berico, in the Italian city of Vicenza. He was just the kind of guy I am inherently drawn to; tall, with dark and lustrous wavy hair and, well, okay he has brown eyes instead of blue, but they were the richest, loveliest sort of brown, a cross between hot chocolate and pure espresso! God, he was gorgeous.

 

I tried to pay attention to the city below me in the warm September sunshine. I had first seen this city 20 years ago when I lived here. It is an enchanting city, full of warm and inviting people, stunning architecture and history that literally oozes from every corner of it. It is about 40 miles west of Venice, in the province of Veneto, a verdant and lush farming area, close enough to the Adriatic Sea to get abundant fresh sea food as well as fresh vegetables.

 

I found myself watching him surreptitiously, trying hard to stay under the radar. He was wearing jeans that were softly faded and snug, hugging his hips and long, well-muscled legs with a white linen shirt, unbuttoned at the neck. While it had a slightly worn and comfortable look, it was well-tailored and obviously expensive. His shoes were Feragamo, real ones that somehow managed to look casual while being incredibly expensive. He was a totally well put together man.

 

I pictured myself with this extremely sexy man, our mouths sharing hot tortured kisses. I imagined sliding my hands down his taut belly, tongue tracing the way for me until finally I had him in my mouth, hard and powerful, yet his skin was velvety soft under my tongue, a potent blend of textures.

 

_Snap out of it, Girl!_

 

Okay, having gotten my mini fantasy out of the way I decided it was just better to get out of there, before I did something stupid like, I don't know, beg him to spend the next 9 days with me? 

 

Reluctantly I glanced at my watch to see what time it was in order to catch the bus that circulates every 15 minutes or so. I had about 10 minutes before I needed to walk the short distance over to the bus stop and I decided to wander over to the Northern outlook to get a better view of the Dolomite Alps to the north of the city. I had to pass by the mystery man, and I promised myself I wouldn't reach out and touch!

 

There were only a few other people up there that day, and as I passed him, he called out to me.

 

"E un giorno bello, non E?" He was telling me that the day was beautiful, which I completely agreed with.

 

His voice was deep and resonate; he spoke the language fluently, and yet I was sure he wasn't Italian after hearing it. There was a flatter quality to his accent which isn't normal with Italians. I decided to play my hunch.

 

"Si. Perdonilo prego ma il mio italiano non e molto buono. Parlate inglese?" I told him that yes, I agreed it was a beautiful day but that I didn't speak Italian very well and did he speak English?

 

"Why yes," he told me in a clear, British accent!

 

"Thank you," I told him. "It's been a few years since I have regularly spoken Italian!"

 

"You're American, then?" he softly inquired. 

 

"Yes," I said, nodding my head.

 

He turned to face me then, leaning his hip against the sun-warmed stones that formed the wall around the top of Monte Berico. 

 

"Are you on holiday here?" he asked me.

 

It took every bit of self-restraint I had to not to stare at his hips resting so casually against that lucky wall. I kept my focus on his face. His eyes were alive and bright, clearly curious and interested in me! Or at least my answer.

 

"Yes," informed him. "I'm here for the next 9 days."

 

As I looked at him, I realized he seemed strangely familiar, but I couldn't seem to remember why. Hell, I couldn't remember my own name right then!

 

He smiled at me then, a dazzlingly wonderful smile. He had the most amazing pair of dimples, deep and affable, set in a face that obviously smiled a lot I thought as I noticed the tiny laugh lines around his eyes. The slight breeze was ruffling his hair; the curls were shining in the sunlight, just begging for my hand to run playfully through them!

 

"Are you here to play or work?" he asked me, again flashing those dimples!  
They definitely should have a warning label attached to them.

 

I was sure I knew this man. Not only did he look familiar but his voice! And then it came to me.

 

_Oh my God, this is Adam Richland, the actor. I've seen so many of his movies, but somehow he seemed different here, in person. While he is wonderfully charming, he also appeared so very real!_

_I am standing here, in Italy with Adam Richland. And we are talking. . ._


	2. Butterflies In My Stomach

Of course, I wanted to do much more than talk!

He was looking at me expectantly and I suddenly remembered he had asked me a question.

“I’m here to play,” I told him finally, trying very hard to stop staring at his lips. They looked soft and full and very sexy. “I used to live here and I wanted to come back for a visit.”

I looked at my watch again, thinking that if I were going to make a run for that bus I needed to do it now. But I didn’t really want to. The last few years of my life I had spent doing exactly what I was expected to do for the most part and rarely what I wanted to do. I’m the quintessential good girl, taking care of my family, handling my job and surviving in a world that rushed by alarmingly fast. Looking out over the balustrade here on Monte Berico at a city that is vibrant and alive, I decided to do something that I never do—stay there and take a chance.

“You keep looking at your watch,” he commented, a slow smile spreading across his face again. “Do you have someplace to go?” His eyes looked at me intensely, almost as if he sensed my decision.

“No, not really,” I told him, licking my lips a bit nervously. I looked past him for a moment, out at the city spread out below us. I could see the copper top of the duomo that was a pale turquoise color from centuries of exposure to the elements, bright red-tiled roofs and small, twisting streets. I could hear the muted sounds of the traffic on them, always rushing, always somewhere else to go.

His gaze followed mine and without thinking about it, we both started moving toward the northern balustrade. It was a beautiful day, the air clean and sharp with clouds in the distance. That wasn’t always the case here in Vicenza, I knew. It usually was only this clear after a rain shower, or in the winter when the air is brisk and cold. When I lived here I had been here for a month before I actually saw the Dolomites. It had rained heavily the night before and I was standing on my balcony in the morning, still charmed to be living in Italy and, they were just there! Like someone had moved them in overnight.

We stopped when we got to the railing and both of us admired the view. These mountains were different in appearance from the Rocky Mountains that I love so much. They are grey and covered with trees, deciduous trees as opposed to the pines and aspens of the Rockies. They were a towering backdrop to Vicenza and the region of Veneto. On the foothills that rolled gently toward the Dolomites, you could occasionally see terraced vineyards growing lazily on the slopes.

I hopped up on one of the pillar stones that divide the sections of the balustrade and swung my legs over the edge. It was a good drop to the ground, but the balustrade was strong and wide. I felt perfectly safe but he moved in closer to me protectively and leaned against the railing next to me, his shoulder pressing against my side. Pure energy coursed through me, it made me tingle and shiver.

I couldn’t ever remember a time when I had a response like this to a man. Not so quickly anyway. I don’t even know him and I hope that I’m not so shallow that it is only because he is famous.

“How long ago did you live here?” he asked me, his tone quiet and inviting. He was idly tracing a finger tip across the stones of the rail, stones that were worn smooth with time.

“Why sir,” I said to him, playfully batting my eyelashes. “Are you trying to find out how old I am?”

We both laughed at that and he said “You’re old enough not to get me into any trouble, but definitely old enough to tempt me!”

That made me laugh harder and he reached around me with his arm and I felt his fingers pressing gently against my hip, I suppose in some sort of effort to pretend he was protecting me.

“I can’t have you falling off here because that would get me into trouble!” He told me and I noticed that he was giggling, like a kid who finds something irresistible.

I adore a man that giggles. Laughter is great, but a giggle is much more personal and intimate. It's not really regarded as a manly trait and so many men don't ever giggle. The sound of it made me smile from the simple joy he was showing me.

The problem was that I didn’t know how much more of his arm being around me I could take. Didn’t he feel this electricity flowing between us? It was like static electricity, the hairs on my body were standing up and I shivered with the sensation. I was feeling alive for the first time in a very long time. I breathed in deeply and let out a long, shaky sigh.

We made small talk for awhile, about Italy and Vicenza, the places we both enjoyed here. We didn’t talk of anything personal though, only light banter and we still hadn’t even introduced ourselves. I was quickly becoming enamored of his voice which was soft and warm, the lilt of his accent smooth and pleasant to hear, beguiling really.

Billowy clouds were starting to rapidly creep across the sky and the wind was picking up as well. It felt chilly up here on top of Monte Berico now. Two different buses had already come and gone and I decided I had better go and catch the next one. I was enjoying myself tremendously, and I felt peaceful and content. But as they say, all good things must come to an end and I didn’t think he was going to sweep me off my feet and marry me, so better to just get the inevitable over with and go on my way.

“I think I had better go and catch the next bus,” I murmured to him softly, twisting around on the pillar stone. He reached up to help me down, holding me firmly around the waist and I slid down in slow motion, our bodies firmly pressed together. When my feet were touching the ground again, he still didn’t let go.

My breath caught in my throat as I stared up into his chocolate-colored eyes. He reached up with his hand and gently brushed an errant strand of my hair away from my eyes, his hand lingering in my hair that was being blown about in the increasing wind. The sun was now hiding behind heavy clouds that looked close to bursting with what was sure to be an autumn rain storm. I could smell the rain just waiting for an earthly invitation to join the party.

We stared into one anothers eyes while silence enveloped us in tender arms. I noticed he swallowed rapidly a couple of times and started to open his mouth, then just as quickly closed it again. I was afraid to look away, but I was also scared to stand there, gazing into his eyes and feeling so vulnerable. I felt my nipples grow hard as I was pressed up against him and I was glad he couldn’t see them.

I tried to mentally shake myself away from this situation. In the distance I heard the low rumble of a bus rapidly coming in to the bus stop. I looked that way and saw that I would have to run to make it.

“Well,” I said, looking at the bus and starting to back away from the magnetic pull he seemed to have on me, “I need to go now!”

“Wait,” he said while still holding my hand firmly in his. I could see so many emotions flow across his gorgeous face. “I, uh, can you have dinner with me? Uh, I mean would you like to, have dinner with me I mean?” He sort of stammered the question, as if surprised that he had actually asked it.

I looked at him again, deep into his eyes and I saw something I would have thought to be impossible—he was nervous. His teeth were softly playing with his lower lip and I looked down to see that his hands were sort of balled up, as if he was trying to keep them from shaking. My God, he feels the same thing I do, I thought hesitantly. Adam Richland, famous movie star is nervous asking me out to dinner! My heart was beating rapidly with this realization and I had only one thing to say.

“Yes”.


	3. Control My Hormones

“Yes,” I told him. I felt breathless and giddy and like there was a smile the size of a pie plate plastered on my face. “Yes, I would love to have dinner with you!”

He gave my hand a squeeze, but didn’t let it go. We stood there for a moment on the overlook and stared into one anothers eyes. Chocolate brown and hazel green eyes were locked together and for a moment nothing else in the world mattered.

We turned, still holding hands and walked towards the parking lot. The bus across the street was just pulling away from the stop with a gush of smelly exhaust fumes that made my eyes sting for a moment. The chugging of the diesel engine was loud, but receded quickly as the bus lumbered down the hill full of passengers trying to get out of the stormy weather that was heading quickly toward us.

He led me to a black BMW Z4. WOW, I thought, what a great car. I heard a click as he unlocked the doors and he opened the passenger side door for me. The interior was grey and fabulously detailed; the leather seats were supple and as soft as satin. I wanted to make sure I didn’t have anything on the bottom of my shoe and when I told him that he laughed!

He closed my door and walked around the car and got into the drivers side. He leaned back into the plush seat with a sigh and turned to look at me, resting his left arm along the top of the steering wheel. “My name is Adam, Adam Richland,” he said to me in a low voice, and then he gave a quick laugh. “I guess since we’re going to have dinner together knowing who each other is would help!”

I blushed and felt the deep red warmth spread down my face and throat. I don’t know why exactly, other than I kept wondering when we would get around to that; and, how did I tell him that I had recognized him without sounding like some star-struck idiot, which I probably am?

His hand was playing with the steering wheel, sort of tracing the grooves on it and I realized again that he was nervous too. He was looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to speak. I swallowed nervously and tried hard to smile, but I think it came off kind of lame.

“Hi Adam, I’m Sarah Marcus,” I said, with just the slightest tremor in my voice. I just tried to stay focused on those beautiful brown eyes. “I, yes, I recognized you, I just didn’t want to mention it because I was afraid I’d come off as some sort of crazy fan or something,” I said with what I hoped was at least a partially apologetic look.

“Well,” he declared, “THAT’S out of the way now!” We started laughing at that point and I realized we were both relieved. “Where would you like to go for dinner?” he asked. “How’s Italian sound to you?” His eyes were twinkling merrily as he turned to start the car.

“Hm, Italian,” I played along. “Actually I was thinking about Chinese...”

“You’d settle for Moo Shu Pork instead of lasagna?” he teased. “That’s sacrilegious!”

“Okay, okay,” I laughed. I thought about what I might want and told him “There used to be a place in Lerino, just southwest of Vicenza. It was called ‘Il Baron Rosso’,” I told him.

“The Red Baron?” he asked. “You must be teasing me, what do they serve, pizza I suppose?” He almost snorted at that!

“Well, as a matter of fact...” I said with the most brilliant smile I could muster.

“Okay, I know when a woman has her mind made up, so Il Baron Rosso it is,” he declared, putting the car into gear and heading down the hill into Vicenza.

I directed him to the road that would take us to Lerino, which was actually only 5 minutes away for Vicenza. I told him that when we lived here, we really lived in the small town of Torri de Quatresolo, which meant tower of the four suns. Just past Torri was Lerino. It had been one of our favorite places to go. It was across from the Lerino train station where we would catch the train to Venice or wherever else we wanted to go.

 

 

Sure enough, Il Baron Rosso was still there and I swear it didn’t look any different. Adam opened my car door for me and as we walked into the restaurant he rested his hand on my back, just below my waist. His hand was warm through the fabric of my shirt and the tingles started all over again.

Inside, the smells of cooking pizza were enticing. American pizza is very different from Italian pizza, and the aroma’s coming from the kitchen were divine. Italians cook pizzas in wood ovens and the crusts are very different as well, thinner, tender and a bit chewy. Each person gets their own pizza, so you can get exactly what you want, and boy, did I know what I wanted!

 

When the waitress came to take our order I ordered a quattro formaggi pizza and a beer. Adam ordered a diavolo and fungi pizza and a beer as well.

“So,” he said, “You are a four cheese kind of girl?” He was playing with the silverware on the table top and it occurred to me then how important it was for him to have something to keep his hands occupied.

Our waitress brought our beers and we raised them and toasted “Bouno Salute” which was a traditional Italian toast meaning good health. We took sips and I said to him “And you are a pepperoni and mushroom kind of guy, and spicy pepperoni to boot!” meaning the ‘diavolo’.

We talked about our lives a little bit while we waited for the pizza. I told him I was from Wichita, Kansas, had been divorced for 10 years and that I had two children; a son 25 and a daughter who was 23. My daughter is beginning her second year of medical school and I was very proud of her. My son is married and is in the military.

“What do you do for a living?” he inquired, taking it all in.

“I’m a headhunter,” I told him, and watched his face for the expected confused reaction that most people get.

“For management or natives?” he asked, flashing his dimples again. I was impressed, not too many people get it.

“Management positions mostly, CEO’s, COO’s, but occasionally finance positions too,” I explained. “Wichita is growing enough that we are starting to have a need for that kind of talent, and because of the fact that it is relatively new to us, we often have to look outside of our community. Or sometimes we just need to find new blood, so to speak.”

“So to speak,” he chuckled.

“What about you?” I asked, giving him my silliest smile. “What are the gory details of your life?”

“I was positively sure you had probably read all about it in the Enquirer,” he told me. “I’ve been engaged 14 times and have abused them all,” he said, leaning across the table and looking from side to side to make sure no one was listening.

“I’m shocked,” I whispered, leaning across the table too, which brought our noses about a ½ inch apart. We looked at one another; eye-to-eye and I could smell his breath, warm from the beer, but very pleasant still. I blinked suddenly when he started staring at my mouth and I was wondering what he was thinking. I unconsciously licked my lips and he watched that carefully; pink tongue moving slowly over my lips. Inwardly I groaned. God I wanted to kiss him!

Our waitress chose that time to deliver our pizzas and we each sat back in our seats, startled and very aware of one another. She placed the plates in front of us and told us “Goda prego il vostro alimento”, which means to enjoy our food. I stared at my pizza, the one I had been craving for nearly 20 years now and all I could think about was the tennis ball that was getting cozy with my tonsils. I tried to swallow it down and it felt huge, so I took a really deep, slow breath and tried again; this time felt a bit better.

Adam was staring at his pizza too and I couldn’t help but think he was having the same problem as I was.

We picked up our forks and knives (they don’t cut pizza into slices, you cut it yourself into bites) and tried to focus on the pizzas in front of us. They smelled tantalizing, the steam rising from the still-bubbling cheese on the top, the crust golden and puffy around the edges.

Okay, the more I looked at it, the more I could appreciate it, so with a shrug, I dug in. My first bite was heaven, as was each one after that. I don’t know how to explain how the pizzas are so different, but they are; you’ll just have to take my word for it if you’ve never been to Italy.

All too soon the pizzas were gone and I felt pleasingly full! When we walked out of Il Baron Rosso, the stars were shining brightly and the moon was close to full. We were quiet as we walked to the car and we both seemed lost in our thoughts. At the car, we stood by the unopened door for a moment, a breathless moment and looked at one another.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a better pizza, or evening,” Adam said in hushed tones. He bent toward me and rested his forehead against mine. His skin was warm and smooth and smelled good. I relaxed against him, enjoying, no loving the contact, wishing for more.

“Let’s get you back to your hotel,” he finally said, reluctantly it seemed to me. Was that wishful thinking on my part?

My hotel was only 10 minutes away, so the ride was all too swift. At the hotel he walked with me to my room. We stood there at my door and I told him what a wonderful afternoon and evening I had with him. I was looking at him, at his dimples and lips and thinking KISS ME!

“Thank you,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around me for a hug. I looked up into his eyes and he leaned down and our lips made contact.

That first kiss was soft, teasing actually; lips gently touching, playing and clinging. I felt the electricity again and opened myself to him, wrapped my arms around him and held tight.

He deepened the kiss and as our mouths opened to one another; I felt his tongue softly tracing my lips, licking at the corners of my mouth then pressing more confidently. My own tongue met his and I loved the feel of it, velvety and yielding to my explorations. I stroked his tongue and the kiss became more urgent.

My nipples were standing firmly to attention, aching and the longer the kiss went on, the wetter I became, I felt myself contracting with desire and need. I shifted to lean against the wall because I felt as if I might fall down.

Eventually it did end and we both reluctantly pulled apart.

“I’d better go,” he said, “Or we could be in trouble.”

Frankly, I was already in trouble! “Okay,” I told him in a voice that was barely a whisper. My mouth dry suddenly and missing his already.

He stood there for a moment and then grinned at me. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

I was a happy woman!


	4. Oh! My Exciting Life

I stood there, grinning from ear to ear, and if he could have read my dirty little mind, he would have known exactly what I wanted to be doing tomorrow! The mini fantasy popped back into my mind, but a little more detailed this time.

Back to earth, Sarah!

He was leaning against the wall; or rather his arm was, and he seemed very relaxed. But as I looked into his eyes, I realized that his body language was telling a different story. His eyes were focused on me and, well, I’d like to say hopeful. There was the barest hint of a smile on his face, but I could see an underlying reserve, as if he was trying to make himself believe my answer wasn’t really important to him, but it was, I could definitely see it was.

“I really haven’t thought that far ahead actually,” I told him. “I just got here this morning, so I’m sort of ‘flying-by-the-seat-of-my-pants’ right now. I want to go to Venice soon, but right now, sleeping in sounds better than anything!”

“How about sleeping in, then a trip to Venezia?” he asked, using the Italian name for Venice. We could catch a train late morning and spend the afternoon and evening there. I know a wonderful ristorante there near the Doges Palazzo, it’s very small and quiet,” he finished softly, leaning towards me. He reached out and pushed back another wayward strand of hair that was playing peek-a-boo with my eyes. It was a startlingly intimate gesture, and I shivered, knowing guiltily how much I wanted this man!

His eyes missed nothing, taking in that shiver and I watched his eyes burn darker for a moment, like melting chocolate. He keep his eyes focused on my face though, and didn’t allow them to wander over my body. I don’t know if that upset me or not. I wanted to blatantly stare at his body! Was he feeling the same way as I was?

“All right then, shall I pick you up about 10:30?” he inquired. “There is a train about 11:00 to Venezia, a diretto,” he stated. A diretto is a train that makes only a few stops along a route, as opposed to a locale, which stops in most towns. It was a quick train, which meant less time sitting next to him, but more time in Venice.

I slowly nodded my head, “Yes, that would be lovely,” I replied. My voice was shaky and low, full of longing and desire. I lowered my eyes then, and stared at the carpeting on the floor. My hands were behind my back, between me and the wall. I didn’t trust myself to not reach out and grab him, but I wanted to.

He reached out with his beautiful hand and touched me under my chin, lifting my face to his and bending down for one last remarkably gentle and arousing kiss. It was soft and brief, as if he didn’t trust himself either.

“Goodnight Bella,” he murmured against my lips. “Sweet dreams,” he finished suggestively. I saw the raw desire in his eyes then and he made no attempt to hide it. For some twisted reason, it made it all better. And he called me beautiful!

“Goodnight,” I said. “I’ll see you in the morning”.

He turned away then, slowly, as if reluctant to move. When he got to the elevator, I was still watching him, the way his body moved, long strides, a confident way of walking that showed he knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it. He pushed the button for the elevator and looked at me one last time as I stood there watching him. And I knew exactly what he wanted in that moment!

The elevator arrived and the doors swept quickly open. He stepped inside and then all too soon the elevator doors closed and he was gone!

I went in my room and closed my door, leaning against it. I closed my eyes so I could hang on to the image of him for just a few moments longer. I know it seemed silly, but I raised my hand and let my fingertips lightly touch my lips, tracing their outlines where his lips had touched them only breathless moments earlier.

I groaned and started to prepare for a very welcome shower. I had taken one this morning when I got here, but I needed to feel the hot and steamy water washing over me, hopefully washing him out of my mind. I was tired, after all I had spent 12 hours traveling to get here and I don’t sleep very well on planes.

I tossed my clothes off without a care, figuring I would pick them up in the morning. While I was thinking about it I called the desk and asked for a call to wake me up at 9:00 am. That should give me time to get ready in the morning.

Mindlessly I turned on the water in the shower, adjusting it to a comfortable heat. An interesting thing about Italian bathrooms, and other places that I had seen in Europe is that because of the difference in languages, they did not use letters on the faucets handles but the center of the handles were colored; they used blue for cold and red for hot. Sort of the universal set up I guessed, but it made sense.

I hopped into the shower, enjoying the feel of the water sluicing over my body. It was just powerful enough to sting just a little bit, but was still very relaxing. I washed, rubbing the shower gel over my body, and I definitely wished it were his hands instead of mine. As I massaged the gel into my breasts, they felt heavy and my areolas and nipples were swollen, hard and aching to be caressed and loved.

I stepped out of the shower and started to rub myself dry with the towel. I realized that some of what I was rubbing away from that hot place between my legs was my own juices and not just the water. I rubbed softly there with the towel and my body shuddered with need when touched myself.

I turned off the lights and climbed into the bed, sinking into the cool sheets. I wished I had brought one of my toys with me; the vibrating bunny would be lovely right now. But I had been too nervous to pack one of them since they searched everything nowadays. I could just imagine some customs official finding it and holding it up so everyone could see and laugh!

So it was just me and my fingers, but that was okay, they were familiar with this territory and knew the paths well.

I thought about Adam and those kisses and his long-fingered hands, touching me and exploring my body. My body only minded a little that it was my hands, not his and I lavishly caressed myself, tracing the pathways I was imagining he was taking.

My breasts needed very little stimulation to bring my nipples back to rock-hard attention and I traced delicate little circles around them, moistening my fingertips generously with saliva. I grasped both my breasts with my hands and tenderly squeezed the mounds, moving up to my nipples again and pulling and teasing them until I could feel my stomach muscles clenching and then I moved my hands slowly down my belly, my ultimate destination waiting impatiently for fingers to play with the wet and aching treasure hidden behind my swollen lips.

As soon as my fingers found my heated petals I came, hard and fast. I cupped my hand over myself and just went with the contractions, my body shuddering rhythmically. My leg muscles were tensing and clenching and my toes were curled as I lay there and experienced the pleasure of that orgasm.

I fell asleep then, and if I dreamed, I didn’t remember it. I only came alert with the phone started ringing at 9:00 promptly.

But I woke with a smile. . .


	5. Time Isn't On My Side

You’d think an hour and a half would be plenty of time to get up and get ready for a date, wouldn’t you?

Wrong. I barely made it. Maybe he thought the breathlessness was because I was excited to see him? Okay, maybe it was, a little...

I came out a very deep, but satisfied sleep when the phone rang. The desk clerk informed me it was 9:00 and that this was my wake up call. I think (hope) I responded politely and coherently and hung up the phone.

I lay there in bed and stretched slowly and luxuriously. I realized I felt fabulous! Then I started to remember why! This must be one of those fantasy kinds of vacations, surely it must. How else can I explain what happened yesterday. I met Prince Charming (at least that’s how it seemed) and now I have a date for the ball!

Oh my God, what am I going to wear?

I had packed mostly comfortable and casual clothes; clothes that wouldn’t wrinkle too badly and that I wouldn’t have to worry about too much. Mix and match clothes that would get me through the next 9 days, oops, make that 8 days now.

And they were great clothes for exploring and walking around Italy, if I was doing it on my own and if I wasn’t going to have dinner with a movie star at a restaurant near the Doges Palace in Venice!

I sprang out of bed as if I had a newly installed spring in my butt and ran over to where my suitcase was sitting, on a bench, still unpacked, except for a few items tossed carelessly aside yesterday after I had taken my morning shower.

The only items with me that I thought were up for an exciting day in Venice with a movie star were my lingerie and he wouldn’t even see that! Well, okay I hoped he would soon, but not today in Venice.

Okay, I have to make a confession here—I have a serious lingerie fetish. One day after my divorce 10 years ago, I was doing my laundry, separating and folding it and I held up a pair of plain, white, boring undies that had definitely seen better days. And I thought, why don’t you buy some new undies, you deserve them. So I went shopping, and started paying attention to what was in the stores.

I hadn’t bought any lacy, sexy undies for years. Once I had bought a really nice, hot nightgown and my ex had looked at it and said “it’s nice, take it off”. So much for romance I thought and didn’t bother again.

But now, I decided to buy what I wanted. The more I thought about it, the better I liked the idea—walking around with silk and satin and lace under my everyday clothes. And it was a fantastic idea. If you think it doesn’t put a little spring into your step to know that underneath your suit you have on a red satin bra and panties with a lacy black overlay on them, you are wrong—so wrong! I felt sexy, like I hadn’t felt, well maybe ever! A good portion of my disposable income went to lingerie. I have every color and pattern imaginable and to go out of the house without everything matching would be a sin to me.

So I had lots of great lingerie to wear, but nothing much interesting to wear over it.

A restaurant near the Doges Palace sounded fancy, but he also said it was small and quiet. Did that mean exclusive and pricey? Hopefully it wasn’t really dressy or formal, because I wasn’t going to walk around Venice all day in dress clothes. I luckily had brought one really nice dress to wear while I was here and another one that would be okay too, if I dressed it up a bit with some jewelry.

I ordered some cappuccino for breakfast and then figured I had time to hop into the shower quickly. I was just getting out when they arrived with my cappuccino, hot and creamy with a hint of cinnamon. Ah, lovely. I sipped appreciatively and nibbled on the fresh roll that came with it.

It was already 20 minutes until 10:00 and I still hadn’t decided what to wear. I opened the blinds in my room and looked outside. It was a little cloudy and the breeze when I opened the balcony doors was chilly, crisp and fresh.

The key, I decided was what shoes to wear. I needed something that would be comfortable, but still look nice. I decided on a pair of black ankle boots, with a low heel, but they were cushioned really well and should be fine for the day. And they even made my big old size 9 feet look good!

I had a wonderful pair of black slacks that I had bought new for this trip. They were light-weight wool and lined. The lines were very chic and fit me well. I imagined that they even made me look taller than my 5’5 height, but that was probably wishful thinking.

I had several choices for tops to go with them, and hopefully they weren’t too wrinkled. I wondered if I had time to steam something. Probably not I decided and but I finally settled on a long jersey tunic with a cowl neckline that lay around my shoulders, with silver buttons along the edges of the collar which could be buttoned up if you liked it that way. I choose to wear it open baring my shoulders, so I would have to wear a strapless bra with it. I would wear a silver chain belt with it, small and delicate looking, but it looked great with the top. Silver jewelry would go with it too; a silver necklace with mother of pearl and jet insets and matching chandelier earrings that I hoped made my neck look long and swan-like.

That decided, I checked the time again. Oh my God, it was 10:00!

I started scrambling to get ready. I laid out my sexiest undies, black lace boy pants and a matching bra with stretchy lace that hugged my breasts tightly. Whenever I wore it, it felt almost as if someone was pressing against my nipples, which was stimulating! Okay, so I’m a bit of a masochist. I probably didn’t need any extra stimulation today, but those undies were definitely dynamite and I needed the extra ammo today! The best part of it was that it had convertible straps which I could pull off.

I put my makeup on, taking extra care with my mascara. I have the thinnest, skimpiest lashes imaginable, so I took the extra time for a second coat, just to be sure. I managed to make my hair look presentable, sort of windblown and sexy which I really liked. My hair is just past shoulder length and naturally wavy, which was nice. I hated it as a kid, but now I can really appreciate it. I can wear it up or loose. It’s sort of a dark blonde with highlights streaked through it and only my hairdresser knows for sure if it is really my natural color! Next, perfume and body lotion and I was ready for the undies!

I was just fastening up my last boot when there was a knock on the door! 10:30 sharp. With a last critical look in the mirror, I answered the door!


	6. Romance, Venetian Style - Part 1

I opened the door, smiling from ear to ear. I probably looked goofy, but I didn’t really care. He was there in my doorway, looking so good. And casual.

He was wearing jeans again. I don’t know where he gets those jeans, but hold on to your hormones because they fit him perfectly and look incredible on him. He had a royal blue sweater on, cashmere of course and it somehow intensified his brown eyes even more. Or maybe that was just the smoldering look he was aiming straight at me! His eyes sparked appreciatively as he stood there looking at me.

“Good Morning Bella,” he said to me. “You look gorgeous today!” How’s that for boosting a girl’s ego?

I could tell you that he politely hugged me, but that would be a lie; a HUGE lie. We both just seemed to melt right into each others arms like rich chocolate melts in your mouth, sweetly and smoothly. He rubbed his hands up and down my back caressingly, just stopping short of my ass, which was a shame because not only did it look good in these slacks, it was pretty shapely too; maybe a bit too curvy and shapely, but still nice.

Still holding me tightly he said, “God you smell good,” burying his nose in my neck. So did he. Whatever aftershave he had on went straight to my already weakened senses. His face was smoothly shaven; his jaw felt just the tiniest bit rough against my neck.

His hands had moved to hold me around the waist, his thumbs running up my tummy, playfully massaging little circles on it. He slid his hands up to just below my breasts, and I had a quick vision of him kissing my nipples through the stretchy lace of my bra.

I groaned quietly and he sort of chuckled, low in his throat. He turned my face up to his and I felt almost resentful to move away from the fragrant warmth of his neck, but I was rewarded by a kiss.

Slow and enticing, his mouth explored mine, weaving magic into that kiss. It left me breathless. When our mouths reluctantly pulled apart, it was like the sun had stopped shining, the warmth was gone so barren it felt.

Holding each other for another minute was heaven and I felt his hardness pressed against me, jutting along his belly. Long and hard I thought with some anticipation of when I would be able to explore his body fully.

“Hi,” he said with a laugh. “Are you ready to explore Venezia?”

I adored his accent and decided I could easily get used to it. I had to clear my throat before I could speak. This must be what people laughingly call chemistry! How had I missed it before? Okay, that isn’t really true, I had felt chemistry before, but it felt like it was the first time at that moment.

“I’m good,” I answered him, my eyes shining brightly, with desire and anticipation of the day ahead of us. “And yes, I’m ready to go. I grabbed my purse and started to leave the room.

He put out a hand on my arm to stop me briefly. “Do you have a jacket with you? It could be chilly this evening”. I grabbed a jacket, one that actually went with the tunic I had on and we left then, managing to catch the elevator as someone was getting off of it.

The train ride to Venice was quick, too quick really because I enjoyed snuggling up next to him in the car. There was only one man in the car with us, a business man working on his laptop. He paid no attention to us whatsoever, but still we didn’t say too much to one another. We were both enjoying the trip together.

 

The train pulled into the St. Lucia Venezia train station and we got off and walked through the station building which was full of busy travelers, hurrying to or from their trains and chattering excitedly. We left the station behind us and walked down the wide, shallow steps leading from the station to the Grand Canal.

The years rolled back and it was as if I was standing there on these steps for the first time. The view from the steps of the Grand Canal is magnificent. Spread out before you is the canal itself, wide and rather murky looking, but it is teeming with energy and life. There are vaporattos, which are the city bus system, only they are boats, as well as small and swift taxi boats. We spotted a few gondolas too, the gondoliers wearing black and white striped shirts and big black hats tied with red ribbons. People were everywhere, sitting on the steps, waiting at the docking platform for the vaporattos, walking and meeting friends and acquaintances, heading a million different places it seemed.

There is a very pungent smell to Venice. It smells similar to San Francisco I think, but many people just think it stinks. You can smell the water, the wood that is basically decaying in the water, the smells from the water vehicles, probably a few whiffs of sewage unfortunately too, but what is important to remember is that it is the odor of Venice—an ancient city built on canals that is regrettably sinking. It is vibrant, alive; a city in motion, a city plagued often by floods but that still preserves its dignity and beauty. There is no other place quite like it.

Adam reached for my hand as we navigated the steps of the station. His hand felt warm in mine, and somehow comforting and comfortable. It was a little cooler here, all the water I supposed, so I put my jacket on. I had to release Adam’s hand to do this but he quickly reclaimed it after the jacket was on.

“Which way?” he queried me, glancing up and down the canal. “Would you like to walk a bit, or take a boat ride?” He was smiling at me, looking very intently at my eyes, in a way that seemed startlingly intimate. I had the thought that we was looking so deeply, he must be seeing my soul. I wasn’t sure it was up to the scrutiny.

“Um, how about taking a boat out to the Isle of Lido?” I asked. That had been one of my favorite things to do in the past. Lido was out in the bay, only a short ride away. It was a charming little island, about 11 miles long and about a mile wide. The island is a glorious riot of color in the spring, with every type of flower imaginable there. In the autumn it is more muted; the subtle colors of fall blend in with the often gold and earth-toned colored buildings. Golds, oranges, yellows and browns abound, with an occasional red peeking through in gardens and hanging off of balconies in beautiful pots.

Adam bought tickets for us on the next vaporatto, which was preparing to dock. We stepped on board and made our way to the front of the boat so we could have an unobstructed view of the canal. The boat never really picks up any speed since it is stopping every few blocks, but you can still feel the spray in your face, salty and fresh from the Adriatic Sea, especially after you get out past the point heading towards Lido.

I began to notice something—Adam attracts a lot of attention. No one approached him, but lots of people noticed him and talked amongst themselves until we got off the boat at Lido and were walking down the street there. A few people had smiled or waved, but one woman, who was American, came right up to us.

“You’re Adam Richland aren’t you?” she quizzed him. She pulled a notebook out of her bag and asked for an autograph.

I saw a different Adam then—I saw Adam the movie star emerge. His demeanor changed, even his posture. He was somehow bigger than life now, chatting amiably with the woman, asking her where she lived, her name for the autograph, little trivial things that help leave a lasting good impression. He cheerfully posed for several pictures with her and smiled and waved when she went on her way. It was amazing to watch. He seemed so relaxed, but since I have been with him when he really is relaxed, I could see a big difference. He had, I really don’t know another word to describe this—he had presence.

It was around 1:30 then and we decided we were hungry. We found a lovely little café that had tables on the sidewalk and had our lunch there. It was on the Gran Viale, the main street that runs east/west, from the dock side or lagoon to the Adriatic Sea side. The café was near the docks and we could watch the boats come and go at a lazy pace. The afternoons in Italy are reserved for reposo, which is the same as siesta in Spain. Italians, who play hard and work hard, take this time each day for a mini break to recharge them for their busy Italian evenings. So, other than tourists like us, the street was very quiet. We ate frutti di mare misto, which is grilled seafood, and a luscious creamy risotto and drank a lovely pro secco wine, a white semi-dry wine that went well with the meal. We sat contentedly for awhile, chatting about nothing in particular.

Afterwards we caught the vaporatto back to Venice and wandered the streets, holding hands and peeking into small shops, amazed at the creative and beautiful glassware that Venice is so famous for.

I loved holding hands with him; I only hoped that later there would be a chance to get a little closer still. I’m not usually the kind of woman who has casual flings; I tend to take my time at relationships. But I wasn’t fooling myself about this one—I didn’t expect it to go anywhere. He is rich and famous and lives a completely different sort of life than I do. We were spending a few magical days together and I kept telling myself to put any expectations out of my mind, just take it for what it is worth and enjoy whatever happens between us. But that said, if I’m not a casual sex kind of person, then can this possibly go any farther? To say I felt conflicted was a gross understatement!

I can feel tension building between us. When he puts his hand on the small of my back to guide me through a doorway and it sends electricity up and down my spine. Once when a leaf blew into his hair I reached up to pull it out. My fingers tangled in his hair trying to work the leaf loose and he stood there, watching me, eyes wide open and aware. Aware of... I’m just not sure yet. Aware of me, of growing desire, or what? I know that he wants me, but still, is he just looking for a quickie or more? And if he is looking for more, how on earth can that happen with us? God, this just rolls around and around in my head, and I never seem to get any kind of answer.

 

We were at St. Marks square at 6:00 and we listened to the bells ringing. They sounded wonderful, but loud! The square was filled with people and hundreds of pigeons, hoping for tasty snacks. We bought gelato from a street vendor, deliciously rich and creamy ice cream. I got chocolate of course and he got some kind of berry.

We were sitting on a bench eating our cones when he held his out to me and said “Would you like a taste?” He had a rather wicked gleam in his eye and just the slightest hint of a smile on his face. Really, he managed to look almost totally innocent.

I smiled back and said “Yes, I’d love to lick your cone,” in my sexiest, come hither voice. He laughed as I placed my hand over his to guide the cone closer and then slowly swirled my tongue around it.

“Mm,” I said, slowly licking a bit of ice cream from the corner of my mouth with my tongue. “Delicious.”

His eyes opened very wide in astonishment, then narrowed as desire sparked in them. “Hmm,” he sort of stammered, “I’m glad you enjoyed that!”

If you play with me Adam, you better understand that I always play to win, I thought!

We finished our gelato and continued on to our tour. I bought some postcards and gifts for family and friends back home and all too soon we were at the restaurant. I was tired by this time, so the thought of sitting down for an hour or so was very appealing!


	7. Romance, Venetian Style - Part 2

The ristorante was small, really just a mom and pop kind of place. It had small tables topped by snowy white linen and small, creamy candles burning in the center of each table.

It wasn’t really terribly dark in the ristorante, but the setting was captivatingly intimate, making each table seem secluded and private. There were only 10 tables that I counted, and about half of them were still empty since Italians normal dinner time was around 8:00 and it was only about 7:00 now.

We were seated at a table that had a low wall near it made of stone. It had plants sitting on top of the wall, real plants which were luxuriantly green. Even though the wall was only about 3 feet high, it made the area seem even cozier.

The proprietress introduced herself as Signora Di Luci. She seated us and asked if we would like some wine to start with. Adam ordered Pinot Grigio, a white wine and when it came it was crisp and delicious. The menu consisted of whatever they had decided to make that day Adam explained to me. He asked her what the special was today and she told him pasta e fagolini soup, baked chicken, grilled vegetables, gnoochi and poached pears for dessert.

“Um, sounds wonderful,” I told him. He nodded to her and she left our table, calling out to the kitchen what she needed.

While we waited for our soup to arrive, Adam told me a bit more about himself and I was eager to hear it.

“We moved quite a bit while I was growing up,” he explained. “My parents are both doctors and traveled extensively through Africa before joining up with other doctors in 1971 to be a part of Doctors without Borders. It was interesting, seeing so many places, but kind of lonely too. We never really stayed any one place long enough to become a part of a community.

“Do you have siblings?” I asked him.

“Yes, I have an older sister and a younger brother. My sister works with my parents now and my brother is a professor at William and Mary College in Virginia.”

“That’s a very prestigious school,” I remarked. “What does he teach?”

“European History, the period dealing with the Inquisition,” he told me. “A very gruesome period of time I think, but he is fascinated by it.” He leaned closer to me and his eyebrows lifted just a bit as he said in a confidential tone “I think he is just a little bit too fascinated by it personally!”

We both chuckled at that. Adam reached across the table and laid his hand on mine, softly stroking it. Things were quiet for a moment and we sat there and looked at one another. It was comfortable doing that. With some people even a moment of silence seems too much, but with Adam, it only increased our awareness of each other, our appreciation.

Signora Di Luci brought our soup then, steaming bowls with the fragrant aroma of rosemary rising from them. The soup had pasta and white cannelini beans cooked in a savory broth and herbs. We sipped on it cautiously because of the steam, but it was delicious.

Conversation continued on as he told me about his marriage. He had married relatively late, at 38. He said he just always seemed to be on the go and never took the time to look for a real relationship. Privately, I wasn’t surprised at that after seeing women’s reactions to him today. He probably had a different girl all the time.

As if reading my mind he said, “I didn’t really even date that much. When I did, a picture would invariably turn up in the gossip magazines with a headline that read ‘Adam Richland to marry Jane Doe’. That really does get pretty old, constantly seeing that. And if they weren’t saying I was getting married, they were saying that I dumped her, or was unfaithful,” he finished with a far off look in his eyes. “After awhile, it all seems pointless, you know?” he finished with a deep sigh and leaned back in his chair, just in time for Signora Di Luci to bring our grilled vegetables.

There were several types of mushrooms and greens, grilled in olive oil and they were very appealing to look at—the mixture of color and texture was a delight and they tasted even better than they looked. I’m not normally fond of greens when they’ve been cooked, because they tend to get mushy. But these were anything but mushy, still a bit crisp and almost peppery. Yummy!

“My ex-wife and I are still great friends,” he told me, pulling a piece of bread off the small loaf on the table. He popped the piece into his mouth and was thoughtful for a few moments while he chewed it. “We were great friends before we got married, and marriage seemed like the next logical step. But I’ve come to believe that marriage should never be based on logic!” he said with a derisive laugh.

I decided to indulge him a bit here and ask “What should marriage be based on then?”

He gave a casual shrug. “Love, common goals, similar outlooks, sex maybe... every marriage is different and what works for one couple probably won’t for another,” he said slowly.

“But aren’t common goals and similar outlooks logical?” I probed, and then munched on some of the bread myself.

He gave a short laugh and said, “Yes, I guess to some degree, but you shouldn’t base any relationship just on that, except well, maybe your lawyer or banker.”

“True,” I agreed. “But didn’t you love her?”

He sat there for a moment lost in thought and finally answered, “I did love her, but I wasn’t in love with her. She was a wonderful friend that I enjoyed spending time with, but that isn’t enough to hold a couple together. Our next mistake was having kids. Not that the boys are mistakes, but when your rationalization for having them is to save a relationship, it’s wrong. Wrong for you, your partner and the kids. So we have done the best thing for them, provided them with two very loving and caring parents who just happen to live in different places,” he finished. While he had been talking he had been absentmindedly tracing patterns on the table with his finger but then his hand again reached for mine. I gave it a gentle squeeze, glad that he had reached for me.

Signora Di Luci set our chicken and gnoochi in front of us. They smelled delectable. I cut into the chicken and took a bite. The skin was crispy and the meat was flavored with garlic and wine and was just plain succulent. The gnoochi were cooked in garlic butter and basil and brought a smile to Adam’s mouth with his first bite. “Mm, best gnoochi I have ever had, anywhere,” he declared.

I had to agree. I also thought briefly of the caloric cost of this meal, but I didn’t fret about it too much, it was just too good.

As we ate our meal, he continued to talk about his boys. Tristan was 6 and Geoffrey was 5. They lived primarily with his ex wife Tamara in Los Angeles where she is set designer for movies. Adam has a house there, as well as one in Tramsford, England, which is in Essex, near London. Not really a suburb he said, but only an hour away.

“I see the boys frequently,” he divulged, but not nearly often enough to suit him he added. “Tamara is very flexible and agreeable to visits, but sometimes with my filming schedule, it’s hard to spend as much time as I would like. My final day of filming here is tomorrow and I don’t have to be in Dallas for 3 weeks to start the studio filming. I plan to see the boys during that time,” he concluded.

I listened to him say this silently and swallowed hard, trying to focus my thoughts. This was wonderful for him to be able to see the boys. He is a caring father and will be good for all of them. And, I reminded myself, you are not going to allow yourself to have any expectations about this Sarah. But he said he is going to be in Dallas, which is only about 5 hours from Wichita. Something to think about...

For us both apparently. He chewed the chicken for a bit and was silent.

“Have you ever been on a movie set?” he asked me.

“Oh, tons of them. They make movies in Wichita all the time,” I told him with a snicker. Oh man, that’s right Sarah, show him your nasty, sarcastic side!  
He cleared his throat and asked me “Would you like to come to the set tomorrow? I have 2 scenes left to shoot, it could be fun for you. I don’t know exactly how long it will take, it’s rather unpredictable, but I would enjoy having you there.” He seemed to rush through this almost nervously and I wondered why?

“Wouldn’t I just get in the way?” I smiled as I said that. “Me, on a movie set?” I started giggling then, an image of myself talking to all of these famous movie people rushing through my mind.

“How about I introduce you to Rachel Tomlinson?” he offered.

“Um, too blonde.”

“William Richards?”

“Ooh, too tall...”

“You are a rather difficult lass, aren’t you? How about Adam Richland?”

“Now you’re talking. I’ll go,” I declared. “You’re sure it’s alright?”

“Absolutely,” he told me, flashing his dimples.

Before we knew it the poached pears were sitting in front of us, warm and smelling of cinnamon. Adam had ordered a different wine to go with them, a Moscoto Dolce, which is a dessert wine and it was fruity and smooth. It went well with the pears and by the time we finished them, I felt like a roly poly woman. I told him he may have to roll me back to the train station.

“I’ll carry you back if need be,” he laughed.

That brought delicious thoughts to my mind, definitely naughty ones and while I didn’t blush, I’m sure I had 'wicked' tattooed on my forehead!

The look in his eyes told me he was thinking the same types of thoughts and that made me shiver.

We left the ristorante and headed back to the train station on a taxi boat. It was a pleasant ride under the moon and stars in that lovely Italian sky and soon we were at the train station and boarding the train for Vicenza.

The train again was fairly empty and we had the compartment all to ourselves. Adam turned the lights down low so it was not so bright. Not that it was dark, but it made it easier to look out the window at whatever we were passing. He put his arm around me and I snuggled into the crook of his arm, feeling warm and happy.

He leaned down and kissed me, long and unhurried. His lips felt wonderful, soft and they moved like magic over mine, sending shivers up and down my spine.

He moaned softly and I turned in my seat to wrap my arms around his neck. He scooped me up and sat me on his lap and truthfully, I never even worried that someone might walk in, I was so lost in that kiss. I opened my mouth to his exploring tongue and felt it gently rub against mine. I felt breathless and was aware of his body pressing against mine warmly. I could feel his desire for me and it took everything I had not to reach down and stroke him.

I finally wrenched my mouth away from his with a groan because good sense was quickly leaving me and I laid my head against his chest, breathing raggedly. We held each other tightly for the rest of the trip and I wondered what would happen when we got to the hotel.


	8. Decisions To Make

Adam was very quiet in the car on the way back to the hotel. When we got there he shut the ignition off and turned to look at me. “Will you have a cup of coffee with me before you go up? We can make plans for tomorrow and talk about some other things that are on my mind,” he said.

I looked at him, trying to decipher what was on his mind but I really didn’t have a clue. I mean, a hundred different thoughts flipped through my mind like a runaway Rolodex, but my imagination often times gets me into real trouble, so I decided it would be better to just wait to hear what he has to say.

Does he not want to see me anymore? Have I done something wrong? What’s up?

He got out of the car and came around to open my door. Lots of guys don’t do that anymore and I really appreciate it. My daughter tells me that is an old fashioned attitude, but I don’t care. It makes me feel cared about and that a man sees me as special.

As we walked toward the hotel, Adam placed his arm around me. Adrenaline started flying through my system again, making me feel giddy and my knees feel weak; a heady feeling, yet very unsettling.

We entered the hotel and headed to the bar. Adam ordered latte and I ordered hot chocolate. We waited for them, and then took them to a table in a corner to sit and talk. The bar was pretty deserted and there was only 1 other person there sitting at a table. She was reading a newspaper and didn’t seem to notice us as we walked by her.

 

After we got settled at the table, Adam seemed a little hesitant to speak. Since I didn’t have a clue what was on his mind, I just waited for him to speak, feeling a bit impatient to get to it, whatever it was.

He was stirring his latte with the tiny little spoon that came with the cup, then put it down and took a small, cautious sip. I did the same with my hot chocolate which was rich and creamy, a much more intense chocolate than American hot chocolate.

Adam put his cup down and played with the handle a moment more then finally said “I need to be at the set by 8:00 am. I know that’s rather early, but we can have something to eat at the set, they will have food there. Does that sound okay?” he asked.

“Sounds okay, exciting in fact,” I told him. “But, are you sure you want me to go?” I probed. “You seem, I don’t know, a little uncertain about things Adam, or at least like something is wrong. What’s going on?”

“I,” he swallowed, and then cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk with you about what is happening with us, uh, you and me. This... I enjoy being with you very much, but time is going by so fast, it just seems as if we don’t have any time to continue to get to know each other.” We looked at one another then, both of us wondering what the other was thinking.

Finally, he let out a long breath, which I hadn’t even realized he had been holding and continued, “I want to get to know you Sarah, very much. Do you feel that way about me?” he asked me, looking at me again, looking at me quite intently in fact.

I was elated but what I couldn’t really figure out was why this would be that important to him. I mean, it’s important to me, but look at the life he leads—he could have anyone in his life. I’d be silly to assume that I was important to him in any way, and yet, that’s what it seemed like he was trying to tell me.

“Yes,” I began tentatively, trying to carefully choose my words. “I like you very much Adam, but the truth is, I’ve been trying to tell myself to not build any expectations, that this has been wonderful but I keep wondering how on earth there could be anything more than these few days. I find it impossible to imagine,” I said quietly. I think my voice betrayed more of my emotions than I wanted them to and I didn’t know if that was good or bad. I had both of my hands on the table, playing nervously with the little spoons which was silly, but at least it gave me something to do with my hands.

He reached out and held both of my hands between his larger ones. His hands felt warm and he rubbed mine gently and told me “Don’t you see, this is our starting place. Now we have to decide what to do with it,” he said watching me intently, brown eyes probing hazel ones.

It’s amazing how much you can convey with your eyes. In Adams I saw hope, a little fear too maybe, but there was also a gleam of liberation in them, probably from actually having told me what was on his mind.

“I usually move so slow at these kinds of things Adam,” I began. “I’m not even sure what we need to do, should do...” I trailed off. My heart was pounding, whether from excitement or fear I was unsure.

“Well, how about spending more days together here? You are here for 8 more days, right?” he asked. "What do you plan to do?"

“Yes, 8 more days. I want to go to Pisa and Florence while I’m here. I visited them when I lived here and I would like to see them again.”

“Have you made plans or reservations or anything yet?.”

“No, I thought I’d just catch the train and go,” I laughed sheepishly. “You know, fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants!”

“Alright then, how about we drive down,” he asked. “I know a wonderful place in Firenza to stay, sort of little cottages, very private. Have you ever been to Tirrenia? It’s on the Mediterranean coast, it's a small village that is quite beautiful,” he said. He was beginning to get excited and I couldn’t help but feel that way too. I loved how when he spoke about Italian cities he used the Italian name for them. I used to do that when I lived here, but I’ve unfortunately become lazy. I will try to use the proper names from now on I promised myself.  
“No, I’ve never been to Tirrenia. To see all those places will take some time though. Don’t you want to go see your boys?” I inquired. I definitely did not want to stop him from seeing them.

“I was going to go to England for a week or so before I went to visit them, and that isn’t important at all. I want to do this Sarah.”

He continued when he saw me nod my head in acceptance. “We could spend one night in Pisa, then another in Tirrenia and go to Firenza from there. The place in Firenza is amazing and we can see the museums there and sight see all you like. If we stay there for 3 days, then we can go back to Venezia for the last days. That is where you are flying home from, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I’ll be flying home from Marco Polo International,” I told him with a smile. I smiled every time I thought about an airport called Marco Polo.

“Wonderful. I’ll have the set assistant make the reservations tomorrow,” he eagerly told me.

“How will the set assistant feel about that,” I giggled.

“The other name used for set assistants is ‘gopher’,” he told me. “They are used to that!”

I sort of inwardly grinned at that. He is so used to that world, just asking for something and getting it. Not quite like the rest of us, who struggle to make ends meet, and just get through our days with as little drama as possible.  
Adam was more different from me than I realized at first. He decides what he wants and goes after it, taking for granted that there are doors open for him that the rest of us can’t even see. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, really just circumstance, but it made me think about how this will go for us. It was obvious to me that he had been thinking about all of this. While it was rather spur-of-the-moment, he had put some thought into it. I smiled and decided I felt good about this decision. It gave us a chance to see what develops or doesn’t between us and I was thankful for the opportunity.

“I can’t wait,” I said, giving his hand a squeeze.

We finished our drinks and went to the elevator to go up to my room. At my door, we stared at one another, aware as ever of our decision and of the sexual tension between us. He was clearly taking his lead from me I thought as he played with a strand of my hair, then cupped my face with his hands and bent to kiss me.

Our bodies melded together as if born to be that way. Even though he must be about 6’1 and I’m 5’5, everything fit where it should. Arms entwined, I let myself go with this kiss and enjoyed the taste and feel of him. Our shared kisses were like wine, intoxicating and left us desiring more.

I wanted him—badly. But it still seemed too soon to fall into bed with him. Why, oh why can’t I be one of those women who can do this so easily, just give into the moment I wondered? My body was aching for release, I needed to feel him inside me and he wanted to be there. The evidence of that was pushing against my tummy.

His hands were moving on my back, rubbing up and down and finally slid down to cup the curves of my bottom, massaging enticingly. He groaned against my mouth and pulled me closer to him, pressing himself tightly against me. I couldn’t help but move my hips against him, wanting to be so much closer. I was throbbing and wet and very close to orgasm and he wasn’t even touching me!

He slid his mouth down across my jaw, nibbling as he went and started to do incredible things to my neck with his lips and tongue. His mouth felt hot and wet as it kissed and licked its way down over my collar bone and then my bare shoulder, biting me enticingly there, before following the same journey back up to my lips.

The kiss went on and on and I knew we had to move apart soon, or move into the hotel room. I just didn’t know if I could do either of them. Luckily, there had been no one in the hallway of the hotel, which would have been terribly embarrassing.

I swear Adam must be psychic because he slowly disentangled himself from me and for good measure took a step back away. “I think I had better go,” he said softly to me.

At least that’s what his lips said, those incredibly sexy lips. But his body was telling me something completely different I thought as I looked down at the obvious hard-on he had. I nervously licked my swollen lips and realized the decision was out of my hands now, but why didn’t I feel better about it?

He took another step back, as if he couldn’t trust himself. “You’re not ready for this. WE are not ready for this,” he finished apologetically. “I’ll pick you up in the morning at 7:30, okay?”

I nodded wordlessly, unable to speak actually. I think my mouth was probably hanging open a mile. He smiled a final time and instead of the elevator, he headed for the stairs. I was on the 5th floor. Maybe he needed the time to get himself together I thought.

I know I did!


	9. Oh, What A Night

It was 11:30 when I went into my room. I sat down on the bed and tried to organize my thoughts. Several shaky breaths later, I realized that was futile, my brain was racing in a dozen different directions at once.

I wanted to tell someone about this. I hadn’t brought my cell with me because I hadn’t wanted to buy an international card for it and calling home was expensive. Money wasn’t that tight, but still I didn’t want to just waste it.

But was it a waste? I’m dying here I thought! Its 5:30 in the evening at home. My best friend Cassie would just be getting home from work. I pictured her there, already clad in a comfortable pair of sweats and leaning against an open refrigerator door, trying to decide whether to eat some yogurt or cereal for dinner. I’d played out that same scenario hundreds of time myself.

After the kids were out of the house, cooking for one is a lonely prospect. Yogurt, cereal, popcorn were all typical dinners for me. Maybe if I were feeling cold or really hungry I might heat a can of soup up in the microwave.

That’s so sad Sarah!

Need and temptation won out over money issues so I called the desk and told them I wanted to place a call to Wichita, KS. Yes, I told them, put it on my credit card! I gave them the number and waited impatiently for the different connections to be made, listening to the operators communicating. By the time we got the international line and the phone was ringing, I was tapping my foot up and down impatiently, waiting for Cassie to pick up!

The line clicked and I heard Cassie’s voice sing out “Hello! Sarah, what are you doing calling me from Italy? Is something wrong?”

I looked at the phone, puzzled by what she had said. “Everything is fine, better than fine and how the hell did you know it was me?”

“Have you ever heard of a little thing called ‘caller id’ Sarah?” she asked me with that teasing tone in her voice I love so much.

Cass and I had been best friends since 3rd grade, and I won’t tell you how many years that is! We’ve told each other about every big ‘1st’ we’ve had in our lives and even the sorry seconds too. We’ve laughed about them, cried about them, opposite sides of the same coin, that’s Cass and I!

“C’mon Cass,” I chided her. “Your caller id doesn’t say Italy!”

“No, it says 011+39. Now, I don’t know what the 39 means but I know that 011 is from another country! Geez Sarah,” she laughed. “SO, what’s up? Are you in an Italian jail or being held captive or...”

I interrupted her question “Hey, nothing so drastic. But, I did want to talk to you,” I wondered if she’d think I was crazy. Okay, she already knew I was crazy, but we were crazy together, and that made it okay! I paused for a minute to try to figure out exactly what I wanted to say.

“Tick tock, or maybe I should say cha-ching, cha-ching Sarah. Enough already, spill the beans. You’ve met someone, haven’t you?”

I held the phone away from my ear for a moment to stare at it in puzzlement. How did she know that I wondered?

“C’mon Sarah, do I have to do all the talking here? Who is he?”

And suddenly I felt the comfort of our friendship wrap itself around me and I couldn’t wait to tell her.

“It’s Adam Richland. I’ve met Adam Richland!” Cass was quiet for a minute and I said “You know, Adam Richland, the guy we have drooled over on Friday night movie marathons...” I trailed off.

I listened to her laughing hysterically on the other end of the phone, followed by that cute little snort she does when she’s trying to get herself under control.

“Wow, that’s awesome! Can you find Bobby Martin for me?” she asked, obviously thinking I was joking with her. That stung a bit, but I guess I’d probably react the same way. “I loved Adam and Bobby in River of Doubt, and like, maybe we could double date or something.” She continued to laugh on the phone and then suddenly she was very quiet. There was a pause on the line and she finally said “You aren’t joking are you? You wouldn’t have called me from Italy if this wasn’t true, I know you Sarah. I’m sorry I laughed.”

Three hundred and sixty degrees in 60 seconds, that’s my Cassie!

“No,” I informed her. “It is true.” For some reason I suddenly felt very emotional about it all. My breath caught in my throat and a tiny little tear ran down my cheek. Maybe it was because I was talking to Cassie, my very best friend or maybe because it was just such an impossible situation and my heart was already getting involved, I didn’t really know.

“Start talking girl,” she commanded. “I want details now!”

So I told her everything that had happened since yesterday. She listened quietly mostly, but laughed a few times at some of the stuff. Cassie is the one person in this world I can totally be myself with, bare my soul to. She has seen me at my best and worst, and she still loves me. But she can tease me mercilessly!

“So, why haven’t you two tangoed in the sheets yet? It sounds like you’re both willing.”

“Cass, have you ever known me to do that so quickly?” Her irreverent attitude shouldn’t surprise me, but I was feeling very vulnerable about all of this. “I want to, I do, but I don’t think I can.”

“Well, Miss Scarlet,” she drawled, “tomorrow is anotha day!” She was quiet for a moment and then said, “Look Sarah, just trust yourself, your instincts. You have great instincts, you always have. But just in case, you got some condoms with you?” she added cheekily. I could feel her smile all the way here in Italy and for some reason it made everything okay.

I laughed out loud then and so did she. It was going to be okay.

“Alright little buckaroo, hang in there. Get into a little deep water; it will do you some good. Just make sure Mr. Hunky Movie Star is your lifeguard! I’ll see you when you get home. Bye!”

The line hummed telling me she was gone. I hadn’t even told her goodbye, but she probably hung up because she was afraid I’d go teary on her again, and the truth is, she’s a bigger softie than I am. I sat there for a moment then reached over and replaced the phone in the cradle. I felt so much better after talking to Cass. I didn’t really have any answers still, but that was okay, I was content.

I took a quick shower and then decided to figure out what to wear tomorrow so it would be one thing less to do in the morning. Same old dilemma. What does one wear to a movie set? I didn’t know if it was inside or outside because we had never really talked about it. He said they would be doing studio work in Dallas, and that could mean that he was shooting outside shots here, but I didn’t really know that.

I somehow thought it would be casual, I couldn’t see the shoot being too dressy. I decided on a pair of killer jeans I have. They fit wonderfully, hugging all the right places. They were a little long which meant that I had to wear them with a pair of shoes with a higher heel, which was cool. Any thing to look a bit taller! I have a gorgeous coral colored sweater that goes perfectly with it and looks great with my coloring. And of course my satin and lace coral colored undies. The bra was a demi cut deep plunge with a front fastener and lace cups. It was delicious if I say so myself and it makes my boobs look great, high and round. I crawled into my bed, wondering what tomorrow would be like, and even more than that, what would the coming days spent with him be like?

I was laying there thinking about how much I wish Adam was here when the phone rang. I looked at it with a start and I couldn’t imagine who was calling me. Surely it is a mistake, but I picked up the receiver and said hello.

“Were you asleep?” Adam asked my softly.

I think I sort of giggled a bit nervously then. It felt weird, thinking about Adam and then having him call. “No, not yet. I actually just got into bed.”

My voice was a little shaky and I was kind of feeling as if I’d been caught. I wondered if he was in bed too. This felt unbelievably intimate, imagining him laying in bed, lights out and talking to me. I wondered if he had any clothes on.

“I can’t get you out of my mind.” With a quick chuckle he added “I’m going to look like hell for the cameras tomorrow!”

“Should I feel guilty,” I asked in a voice that was soft and silky. I couldn’t help it; my hand had strayed to my nipple, almost unconsciously stroking and swirling my fingertip around the areola. I decided my other nipple needed attention and shifted to that one which responded quickly.

I swear I could hear each of our heartbeats in the brief silence that followed.

“No,” he told me in a low voice. “I do not want you to feel...guilty.” The last word was almost a sigh.

“What do you want me to feel Adam?”

I heard a sharp intake of his breath. “I don’t know Sarah. Are you thinking about me?”

“Yes. I was thinking about you before you called. I’m happy you called Adam.”

“What were you thinking? About me, I mean.”

I didn’t know what to tell him. Should I be honest and tell him how badly I wished he was here? That I wanted to feel his body on mine, kissing and touching me; that I wanted to know the joy of having him inside of me? Is that too much too soon?

Probably.

I decided to be truthful, up to a certain point anyway. “I was thinking about tomorrow and the trip and everything. I’m excited about it all,” I told him, knowing it was only part of the story, but deciding it was best to stay out of dangerous sexual territory.

“Yes, I’ve been thinking about it too. And I have an idea, about tomorrow, uh night.” His voice sounded a little uncertain and I couldn’t help but be curious why? I heard him take a deep breath before he continued on. “I don’t know how late the shoot will go tomorrow and then we’ll need to get some dinner and with all the rushing around and such, I was wondering if you would like to stay here at my hotel tomorrow night. It might make things easier.”

I was so thrown off by this unexpected suggestion I couldn’t say anything. I don’t have to tell you what went through my mind, I’m sure. But I felt panicked too. I mean, I know that we were going to get to the point of having to discuss this if we were going to be together, but I was expecting to maybe discuss it on the trip.

He sort of rushed on when I didn’t immediately respond, “My room here is actually a suite,” he informed me. “You would have your own room and bath, private, so you wouldn’t have to worry about uh, anything.”

After another pause, during which time I was trying to figure out exactly what to say, he said “We don’t have to do that, I just... I didn’t intend to, I had no intention to make you uncomfortable.”

“WAIT, Adam. Just wait a moment here.” I had sat up in bed, as if being upright was going to make my brain think any clearer. “Adam, it didn’t make me uncomfortable, and I don’t have a problem staying there really. I mean, we were going to have to talk about this soon anyway. It was bound to be a bit awkward to talk about.” My head was still full of a million thoughts, all trying to be heard over the other.

“Yes, I understand that,” he explained softly. “I just thought that it would save some time and we could get started earlier on Thursday actually.”

“And it will, it’s a great idea, it really is. It’s just I sort of have this thing lurking in the back of my brain, and I don’t know what to do about it yet,” I finished with a sigh.

“What thing Sarah? What thing?”

This was my moment of truth. I had to go ahead and say it. I knew he had been thinking the same types of things and if we just got it over with, we wouldn’t worry about it so much and we could just enjoy our time together.

“Us, being together. Making love Adam.” I took a deep breath and held it in unconsciously, waiting for his reply.

“I think about it too, a lot,” he confided. “But Sarah, we can take our time with that part; we’ll know when we are ready. I don’t want to ruin things by rushing before its right, you know?”

“I agree with that. I don’t want to go too fast either. But I’m sort of afraid of something Adam.”

“What?”

I’m sure he was worried at this point that he had somehow said something wrong, and I didn’t want him to feel like that. I also decided we needed to stop being so damn serious.

I giggled, and it felt good. “I’m afraid of my hormones, because I have to tell you mister, you’ve really got them working overtime!”

I could feel him relax, really I could. He sort of giggled too and said, “You haven’t done a bad job of that yourself, you know!”

“Really?” I asked, trying to sound innocent. I’m not sure he bought it. Okay, make that I’m sure he didn’t buy it.

“One day soon, I’m going to tell you all about it—then I’m going to show you,” his voice was low, almost a growl.

“Promise? You know, I have a few of those things to share as well,” I said to him in my most sexy, teasing tone.

“I certainly hope so! I want to hear all of them.”

“I could start with what I was thinking about before you called.”

He groaned. “I don’t know that I could handle it, at least right now.”

“I think it’s time we said goodnight. I mean, you were worried about your beauty sleep and I don’t want to be the cause of people watching this movie and asking what on earth was wrong with Adam Richland in it!”

“No. That would be awful, tragic really. I’ll see you in the morning, then?”

“Yes, I’ll be ready,” I promised. “And I’ll be thinking about you for awhile longer tonight.”

“Goodnight Sarah. You really make it hard on a guy, you know?”

I couldn’t resist, “Hard on a guy or just hard?” At his sharp intake of breath I giggled and said “Goodbye Adam!” Then I hung up the phone and knew that the next week or so was going to be spectacular!


	10. Quiet On The Set

I actually fell asleep quickly after our call. I felt great, as if we really did have a chance to make something out of this. I ignored the little voice inside that told me I was crazy. Mostly anyway.

Before I went to sleep I had called the desk and asked for a wake up call for 6:30 and for them to prepare my bill for me, so when the phone rang to wake me I excitedly hit the shower.

I felt energized, not because I had gotten so much sleep, but because I was looking forward to the day, to the next 8 days precisely. I said a small prayer to God, who I hoped actually recognized me and asked that if it was true that He protected children and fools I hoped He was paying attention to me.

I dried my hair and hurriedly dressed. I took as much time as I could on my makeup, and then got my bags packed up. Since I hadn’t really bothered to unpack much, that didn’t take too long which was a great thing because by then it was 7:15. I looked around the room and bathroom one final time to make sure I hadn’t missed anything before calling down to the desk and asking for someone to come and get my bags. I went down stairs to the desk and Adam got there as I was paying my bill. When my bags got downstairs, he took them out to the car and I came out just as he was closing the trunk.

“Good morning Bella,” he greeted me, and then wrapped his arms around me for a wonderful hug. I thought that I could easily get used to that every morning.

“Good morning to you too,” I buried my face in his throat and breathed in his scent. He smelled faintly like soap and some slightly tangy aftershave, but mostly I smelled Adam, and nothing could have made me happier. Scent is such an incredible sense. I don’t know of anything that opens us up as much to other people, events, and memories. Scent brings us instant recall, reminding us of all sorts of things, transports us to other places and times. I know that as long as I live, I will remember Adams scent; warm, slightly musky, and very masculine. I suppose it must be his pheromones that attract me so much, but it didn’t really matter. I was sure that if they put my into a room with 100 other guys and I was blindfolded, I could easily find him.

I lifted my face to him and he just smiled at me for a moment, taking in everything about my face, searching my eyes, looking at my lips. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, I only knew that already his face was dear to me and I stood up on tip toes to kiss him.

His lips met mine and they were utterly tender and soft. The kiss was long and deep and when we drew away from each other, I suddenly felt so alone and wanting. I think he understood because he bent quickly for one more brief kiss.

We got into the car and after he started it and we got going, he reached down and started the CD player. A familiar tune started playing and it only took me a moment to recognize it—Promise Ain’t Enough, by Hall and Oates, off the Marigold Sky CD. It was one of my favorites and I reached down to his CD holder to see what else he had in there.

“If you don’t like this you can put something else in,” he said, navigating the busy streets. I glanced at his hands on the steering wheel, his long fingers gripping it securely, very much in control. He had beautiful hands and I wondered for the hundredth time what they would feel like on me!

“No, I love this actually. I have it at home. I was just looking to see what else you have in here! Hm.”

“Well, what do you think?” he asked me giving me a quick sideways smile.

Damn those dimples!

“I think you have very eclectic musical tastes Adam,” I laughed. He had a little of everything in there, from country to rock to Motown. I continued to laugh a bit as I looked through them.

“Why are you laughing? Do my tastes appall you?”

“At least half of these are sitting in my CD holder at home. It’s like I brought them all with me!”

I reached over and touched his leg lightly and he sort of jumped. I’m not sure why, but I certainly hoped it wasn’t because I scared him. I withdrew my hand and put it in my own lap. I was feeling kind of weird now, not sure if I had done anything wrong.

He immediately reached over and took my hand in his, rubbing my fingers with his. I looked at him, trying to decipher what was going on. I watched his hand holding mine, stroking it softly, and then I asked, “Adam, did I do something wrong, touching you I mean?” I was feeling unsure of myself now.

We were sitting at a traffic light for a moment and he turned to me. “No, no you didn’t do anything wrong Sarah,” he said, lightly squeezing my hand. “I just wasn’t expecting it. And you are very distracting.” His look at me was almost solemn. He started to say something else, and then quickly closed his mouth. The light turned green and we were off with the other traffic, speeding to the next light.

“When you touch me Adam, it feels like electricity zapping me. Do you feel that too?”

He laughed, and that laugh sounded more like a groan, maybe it was. “You could say that. I’m so afraid I’m going to be walking around the set with this huge erection I can’t even think straight! I know I’m going to forget half of my lines, I just know it.” He was shaking his head and staring intently out the windshield of the car, really almost glaringly focused on the road and traffic.

I started laughing for real then, and after staring at me in astonishment for a moment he joined in.

“We make quite a pair. I’m afraid my nipples are going to get hard and someone will see!” I finished, thinking what an impossible situation this was. There was of course one thing that would help, but we hadn’t gotten around to that yet.

He groaned for real this time and said, “Don’t talk to me about your nipples; it’s NOT going to help me!”

I mumbled something about it not helping me either and then noticed we were pulling into a parking square downtown. We were here I guess.

“Adam, you’ve never told me anything about this movie, what is it about? Is this where you are shooting?” I asked, suddenly curious as I looked around at everything. There were a dozen or so buses parked here and equipment everywhere that included lights, cables, and things that looked like cherry pickers which I later found out were called camera booms. People were rushing around madly and I saw they were coming in and out of what was the art museum when I lived here.

Adam parked the car and hurried around to open my door. “Yes, this is where we are filming and it is a movie about a family that is being blackmailed because their grandfather was a Nazi in the war,” he told me almost absentmindedly. While he was telling me this, we were walking towards one of the buses, and when we got to it his name was on it and the door was open. I realized it was his dressing room. I looked around it and there were a lot of clothes hanging on portable rods, several copies of scripts, but nothing there that was personal at all, almost like it could have been anyone’s dressing room instead of Adams.

“Adam, they need you in make up as soon as you can get there.” Two young women came up the steps of the bus, looking around and spotting Adam, it was the first one that spoke. “Hi there,” she told me, smiling broadly, “I’m Patty Richards, one of the set assistants, but everybody calls me Sunni. This is Krista Marshall, our directorial intern.” Sunni held out a hand to me, which I took. She had a very firm grip and a Texas drawl, if I wasn’t mistaken. At first glance she seemed very young, but I quickly realized that was just because she had so much excess energy. Sunni had red hair, that beautiful shade of deep strawberry blonde and it was pulled back into a pony tail. She had a dusting of freckles across her nose and the most beautiful azure blue eyes I have ever seen. The second young woman, Krista didn’t say anything. She was a very intense looking young woman that was evidently fond of the Goth look—she was all in black and the only spots of color on her were a very pale face and huge brown eyes. Thick black eye liner emphasized those startling eyes, making them look huge. She was very watchful, seeming to take everything in.

“I’m Sarah Marcus and it’s nice to meet you,” I said, smiling back at them. I knew immediately that I liked Sunni; she just seemed so positive and energetic, but I couldn’t yet get a feeling for Krista.

“Hey, that’s a mid-western accent! Where you from?” Sunni queried, grabbing a suit and handing it to Adam, then pushing him into another room. She didn’t seem to miss at beat at anything as she was now looking through the scripts on the table until she found the right one. “Hey Adam, you want some coffee?” she yelled out to him, and then turned to me. “How about you Sarah, you want some coffee or something to eat? Come ON Adam. Sarah, that tent over there is the mess tent, go on and help yourself,” she told me pointing to a striped tent across the square. Krista remained silent through all this. Adam came out then wearing a black suit that frankly made him look gorgeous. Okay, he looked gorgeous no matter what he was wearing. Sunni was guiding him down the steps of the trailer and he turned and flashed an apologetic smile at me and then was gone. Krista trailed along behind, casting one last inscrutable look at me before following Sunni and Adam.

I stepped down out of the bus and watched Adam, Sunni and Krista climbing into another bus. Sunni was using a lint brush on him, handing him a script and yelling at someone else to get some coffee for him. Whew! I thought, whirlwind Sunni. I decided that if she was the one making our reservations for the trip that we had nothing to worry about. I can’t imagine anyone being more thorough than Sunni.

Taking a look around, I decided to head over to the mess tent to see if I could find some coffee. It seemed strange that on a movie set they would call it a mess tent, like the military did. You’d think they would have a classier name. I remembered that I saw on TV that they sometimes call them commissaries, but then again, that was a military term too.

I stood there by the opening for a moment sniffing the air appreciatively. I smelled rich coffee and cinnamon rolls and then I spied a hot plate and a guy behind it cooking up omelets and eggs. I realized that I was very hungry and I wandered down the length of the table, trying to decide what I wanted. There were lots of choices.

I had finally decided on an omelet and was trying to figure out what I wanted in it from all the available options when Sunni came in, no Krista this time, calling out greetings to the few people who were sitting at the tables, lingering over coffee.

“Hey Sarah, you never told me where you are from. You hungry? Try one of Tino’s Texas style omelets, he makes ’em special for me, cheese, onions, bacon, hash browns and peppers, I promise you’ll like it. They are the big hit around here, aren’t they Tino? Of course,” she continued on, “It’s Italian bacon, something they call Pancetta, but it’s pretty good.”

As she spoke she got a cup of coffee and poured a liberal amount of cream and sugar into it and walked over to where I was standing by Tino, who was obviously the cook.

“Yes, that sounds delicious Tino,” I told him, watching him expertly concoct the omelet. “Wichita, Kansas,” I told her “that’s where I’m from.”

As Tino worked on my omelet, Sunni continued on her seemingly endless stream of conversation. “See, I was right! I knew you were from the mid-west. I got Adam into make up. You two have a late night last night? He looks a little peaked this morning, but some concealer will take care of that! Hey, he told me that you all are leaving in the morning for a little trip and asked me to set all that up for you. It sounds like fun!”

She took time to sip her coffee and I told her that yes, we were looking forward to the trip. For all her non-stop talking, she wasn’t really asking any questions or being nosy, and I was thankful for that. I wasn’t ready to answer any questions about Adam and I. Last night with Cass had been enough. I had a vision in my mind of Cass and Sunni together and thought what an event that would be!

Tino finished my omelet and I chose a fresh croissant to go with it and took them over to a table to sit and eat. Sunni was talking to the other people in the tent about the shots planned for the day and I looked at them a little more carefully, but if they were actors I didn’t recognize them. Of course they could be extras, but from the casual way they were dressed it didn’t seem likely. Anyway, it gave me enough time to eat my breakfast, which was indeed wonderful. When I took my plate over to the can to throw it away, I told Tino how good it was and he accepted my compliment with a blush and a smile.

The other people were just leaving and Sunni motioned for me to follow along and we went into the museum to watch what was happening. As we walked, Sunni squirted something from a tube into her hand and rubbed it on her face. She saw me watching her she smiled and explained, “Sunscreen! With these freckles, it is my constant companion.” They were setting up the first shot now, laying tracks for the cameras to move along and hanging lights and placing mike booms and a dozen other things I couldn’t even identify. It was fascinating, twenty people all working independently, but together at the same time—each knowing their job and doing it perfectly. It was almost like a scripted ballet, one person would turn and duck to guide some kind of cords and the person next to them automatically bent or scooted whichever way they needed to go, all without a word being said.

Sunni told me a little about was going on, describing the various things, why there were so many cameras in lots of different places and how the lights and huge reflectors will need to be moved at different times during the day so that the light was constant, pointing to the large windows in the building that let lots of natural light in. She started explaining about continuity when Adam and three other actors came in. I immediately recognized Rachel Tomlinson, William Richards and Paul Hallenbach and Adam turned to me and smiled, a totally cheesy smile, as if he was saying, “I told you so!” which made me laugh. I could see the make up on Adam, but it only enhanced his natural looks. He had mascara on and that seemed kind of funny. Krista made another appearance then, and was asking questions from the person that Sunni had identified as the director, hands gesturing wildly, trying to make a point about something obviously.

Sunni came up with a couple of chairs for us and we set them up well-away from the scene and explained that even at this distance, it was very important to be quiet as cameras easily pickup background noises. That actually seemed like a good thing because if I had to remain quiet, so did Sunni. Her constant stream of conversation and energy, as fascinating and informative as it was, was quickly wearing me out. Adam and the other actors were listening to the director and finding the places where they needed to be during the scene. Adam seemed totally immersed in working right then, which was a good thing and I focused on staying out of the way.

The scene only seemed to about 10 minutes long, but they shot it from many angles multiple times. It took over 4 hours to complete and it amazed me that no one seemed frustrated or grouchy! Sunni had disappeared an hour or so ago and when they stopped for lunch, Adam came over to get me. Krista was with him and seemed intent on talking to him about the scene that they were going to film this afternoon.

“Adam, you have to show anger in this scene, it’s integral to this character,” she was telling him agitatedly. She had her hand on his arm as if she was trying to hold him in place, forcing him to listen.

We were standing outside Adam’s trailer and I could see he was irritated with her. He held his body stiff and rigid and it seemed to me that he was having a bit of trouble keeping his temper in check. His mouth was clamped tightly shut and you could easily see the vein on the side of his temple pulsing. He casually removed her hand from his arm and stepped back a bit.

This can’t be good.

“Krista,” Adam sighed impatiently, “he doesn’t know what is happening for sure yet. He isn’t feeling anger yet, only confusion and worry. You have to play each scene as it is. If his character displayed anger now, it wouldn’t make sense to the audience, it wouldn’t ring true,” he finished. “Now, I’m done discussing this. I’ll see you after lunch.” Krista stood there looking balefully at us, but didn’t say anything else.

Adam reached out and took my hand and we went to his trailer to have some lunch and for him to relax a bit. Sunni had already brought lunch over for us and left the itinerary for the trip on the table for us to go over.

As we read it and ate lunch, Adam was quiet and I realized he was tired. I would have offered to rub his shoulders and neck if I hadn’t thought that would just make things worse and all too soon anyway, it was time for him to get back to the set. I’ll say this for my experiences this morning, I was totally disillusioned about any of this being glamorous—it was hard, taxing work. I can’t remember how often things got delayed by the sounds of some loud traffic noise or someone saying the wrong line, or even saying the right line in a way the director didn’t like.

The afternoon scene took almost 8 hours to complete. In fact they had to stop in the late afternoon and shave Adam and Paul because their 5 o’clock shadows were being caught by the camera. They brought sandwiches around for a quick supper while they were being shaved to save some time. It was almost 10 o’clock before they were finished and we left to go to the hotel. I couldn’t really say I had a fun day, but it was definitely interesting.

Seeing how tired he was I was really glad that he didn’t have to take me back to my hotel. He was very quiet and after a quick hug and kiss, said he was hitting the shower, so I decided to do the same.

When I got out of the shower, I put a nightgown on and a matching robe; nothing too sexy, but comfortable and attractive and headed into the living room of the suite. Adam was already there, in a luscious royal blue terry cloth robe and he looked plenty sexy even if it was terry cloth. He was sitting on the sofa, legs stretched out and resting on the table in front of him with a glass of wine in his hand.

He held out a hand to me to come and join him and I did, picking up a glass of wine that was sitting on the table that I figured was mine. I sat down next to him and he wrapped his arm around me; it felt warm and comforting. He told me he had called the desk and asked for breakfast to be brought up at 9:30. I asked him if they were going to call to wake us up before then and he told me no, that he had set his travel alarm in the bedroom. He leaned down and kissed me, lightly and sweetly. I could feel his exhaustion, so I just leaned back against him and enjoyed the quiet, listening to his breathing. We said very little and soon finished our wine. I took his glass from him and sat it and mine on the table, then I stretched my legs out along the couch and he shifted his along side mine so we were laying facing one another.

It felt wonderful, just laying there with him, feeling him pressed up against me. I wrapped my arm around his waist and yawned. He quickly yawned too and we laughed.

“We’ve got a big day tomorrow,” he murmured, stifling another yawn. “I suppose we should go to bed, but I want to just stay here a few minutes more.”

“Um, me too!” My head was lying next to his chest and I could hear his heart beating steadily, which made me feel wonderful. I could feel the curly hairs on his chest tickling my cheek and I softly kissed his chest, pressing my warm lips against him. I felt his lips in my hair and heard him inhale its fragrance and he pulled me to him a little tighter, settling himself around me.

We were awakened by someone knocking on the door. When we opened our eyes, we realized it was morning; 9:30 to be precise and we had slept the night away!


End file.
